Grey Expectations
by WillowVk8339
Summary: While on the trip of a lifetime, delicate but strong-willed Elaine Bishop unwittingly is hurled back through time to Roman Britain. Confused as to how she ended up more than a thousand years in the past, she struggles to survive, and, consequently, must learn how to navigate this rough and rather savage new world.
1. Chapter 1

Elaine Bishop had made a serious error.

"This is a horrible idea." She looked out over the moor with wide brown eyes, taking in the vast expanse of green that stretched out, quite literally, in every direction.

As far as the eye could see!

Crossing her arms and resting back into the passenger seat, she mentally berated herself for giving into her best friend's impulsive behavior … yet again.

 _Let's drive out by the moor,_ Jackie said _. It will be fun,_ Jackie said _._

Okay. Well, Elaine was not having fun.

"Oh come on," Jackie sang, not phased in the slightest. "This is awesome! And look, no other tourists."

"Um, exactly, no other tourists." Elaine chanced another uneasy glance at the dark moor. The moon was full and bright. But even that didn't seem to be enough to pierce the black night. It was as thick as tar. "Let's just head back to the manor, you know? Curl up in front of the fireplace, drink some of Mr. Bailey's tea, eat biscuits …"

A flash of bright lights all of a sudden flooded the cab of their rental car. And Elaine, ever so slowly, shot Jackie a sidelong glance, her expression saying, _'What did you do?_ '

At least Jackie had the decency to look ashamed. "So, I invited some of the locals to, like, show us around."

"Oh, God, Jackie—"

"Come on, babe, live a little." With a flash of her bright white smile, Jackie bounced out of the car in a blur of black curls.

Elaine just wanted to go bed.

She blew her bangs to the side and, sluggishly, grabbed her leather satchel before stepping out into the cold night air. If there was one thing she knew, it was how persistent Jackie could be. In fact, a dog with a bone came to mind—a very, very hungry and aggressive dog.

The wind rustled the hem of her dress and goosebumps erupted over the skin of her arms and legs. She was wearing a white lace sundress and a simple pair of brown flats. Nothing conducive to a night cavorting around in the dark and cold and creepy grassland.

She leaned against the car, strawberry-blonde hair tumbling over her shoulders and down her back, delicate elfin-boned face tipped to the side. She watched, unimpressed, as some guy jumped out of the back bed of the pickup truck. A truck that was still shifting into Park, by the way. The stranger stumbled, _hard_. It was obvious that he would rather break his leg than spill his beer.

Given the direction her night had just taken, Elaine sighed.

And the stupid decisions kept on coming.

Forty-five minutes later, Elaine found herself surrounded by a group of local kids from the village on holiday from university. They were all camped out along a section of Hadrian's Wall. Elaine had never felt more out of place.

Sitting on the edge of the wall, while everyone else sat around a small makeshift fire, she took another sip of her beer. While Elaine may have felt like a fly on the wall, Jackie had not wasted anytime embedding herself into the group. The raven haired beauty seemed pleased to be plopped on some random guy's lap, soaking up the attention she was receiving.

Jackie threw her head back and laughed. It was a signature move that Elaine recognized instantly. It meant Elaine would be driving back to their hostel solo tonight.

With a pang of jealousy at her own social inadequacies, she jumped off the wall and set down her beer can.

"Hey, Jackie," Elaine called, and Jackie slipped off her new companion's lap.

"What's up?"

Elaine, hitching her bag strap higher up her shoulder, answered softly, "I'm going to head back to hostel. I'm getting really tired."

"Are you sure? If you give me a minute I can tell Greg—"

"Oh no, it's cool. I mean if you want to stay that is. You do, don't you?" Elaine smiled.

Jackie nodded. "Yeah," she giggled, throwing a swift glance over her shoulder at the blond Englishman. "I'll catch my own ride home. Do you want me to walk you back to the car?"

The car was at least a solid ten-minute walk away, but it wasn't anything Elaine couldn't handle on her own. "No, no, I'm good. Night, Jack."

"Night, babe."

After hugging Jackie and reminding her to be safe, Elaine started heading back to the car, leaving the sounds of the party behind as she strolled out into the dark.

-0-

* * *

 **I know, why am I posting another story? Well, a friend asked me to post this, so here it is, girlie, you know who you are!**

 **Everyone else, I hope to hear your thoughts. Review!**


	2. Chapter 2

Elaine trudged up a particularly steep hill, her slim calves burning as she stretched out her strides. The wind picked up and with it came a strange bog-like smell that made her nose wrinkle. Dark green grass swayed back and forth, tickling the exposed skin of her legs, while the silence, which pervaded the night, was almost deafening in its stillness.

As she made it to the top, she huffed and put her hands on her hips. She didn't remember it being this tough before.

Just as the bog smell grew stronger, a great crack of thunder split the sky in a flash of white, and she could hear rumbles echo in the not-so-far off distance. It was strange, her ears popped, as if she was in a plane that had just jetted off into space. She looked up, her eyebrows drawn together.

"Oh, come on," she muttered in quiet indignation, just as the first drop of rain splashed her on the nose. She pulled out her iPhone and tapped the flashlight app.

Then she took off running.

It was raining, of course. Not a steady spitting patter, but a terrible storm. It plastered her hair down and made the ground beneath her feet wet and slippery. She felt silly and almost embarrassed to be running through the moor. But she was soaked. As if things couldn't get any worse, she stumbled—not a hard stumble, not like the drunk guy earlier. However, when paired with the pliant ground, it was enough to send her tumbling forwards.

Her insides froze. Everything after that happened so fast, too fast for her to keep up as she rolled down the sharp incline. As she fell, for a moment, the world seemingly slowed and like a haunting menace, Hadrian's Wall melted out of the abyss.

Elaine didn't even have the chance to scream before she slammed face first into stone.

-0-

Consciousness crept up slowly, painfully. Elaine groaned.

 _Oh, my God,_ she thought, blinking in agony. _What happened?_

Sprawled over a bed of damp grass, her head pillowed on a stone, she sucked in a sharp breath. Very, very carefully, she peeled her face of the rock and studied the red imprint … _wait, is that blood?_ She touched her face and yelped. The sound came out dry and choked. It took a second, but the events of last night started becoming clear. Well, _clear-ish_.

Elaine remembered driving to the moor with Jackie. Then she slipped.

Oh, right, I fell, she thought.

She cradled her forehead, sat up, and pushed herself backwards until she was resting against the wall. There had to a bump as large as a wine cork on her forehead and it burned when she tried breathing through her nose. Her white dress was covered in mud and grass stains, she was missing a shoe, and there was dry blood caked on her knees.

She glanced around. The sun was shining with clouds overcast. Her eyes stared up at the sky for a moment. There was no way to tell how long she'd been out here. Then she bent her head and shut her eyes before abruptly snapping them back open.

It was impossible to accept that she had been unconscious all night long, out in the open moor. Jackie must have seen that their rental car was still sitting in the same place they'd left it, right? That should've raised at least some red flags.

Elaine's first instinct was to reach for her phone. Only, she had no idea where it was. She was filled with sudden panic, and trying to absorb the situation she had now found herself in, the panic was kind of overwhelming.

"Crap." She shifted into an uncomfortable squat-like position and twirled in a circle, furiously searching for the slim phone. "Shit."

She ignored her throbbing head and stood up. Then she started climbing back up the incline she had fallen down the night before. Her cellphone had to be here somewhere. It's not like it could just disappear! Or, did someone steal it?

Trying not get hysteric at the fact that her cellphone was missing, Elaine pulled her satchel forward and, flipping open the flap, searched for her car keys. She just about cried when she pulled them out.

All she could think of now was getting to the car. Everything would be fine once she was able to get back to the hostel. She would get all of her questions answered, like why Jackie didn't look for her. And afterwards, she would fix the mess the last twelve hours had turned into.

Getting to the car was going to make everything all right.

-0-

 _The car is gone._

Elaine turned over this new information in her head. The knowledge left a bitter, gag-worthy taste at the back of her throat. She held herself perfectly still, keeping her face expressionless.

As her mind clicked through different strategies, all of which involved a lot of walking and back tracking, she glanced over her shoulder at Hadrian's Wall.

There was a long stretch of nothingness as she struggled to organize her next thoughts, most that wouldn't quite resolve into words.

Instead of the dilapidated stretch of rock the wall had been yesterday, a breathtaking and intimidating structure loomed in its place. It was unlike anything Elaine had ever seen. But nonetheless, it stirred something inside of her, like a memory, as if the obvious answer shouldn't even have been questioned. As a matter of fact, everything looked familiar, but at the same time, unfamiliar.

In the distance she saw people—more like red dots—walking along the battlements, in between the turrets. Strange looking yellow and dark red flags flapped ominously in the wind.

Something inside Elaine was trembling. Taking a step back, her heart skipped a beat and her stomach sank.

 _Where am I?_

She didn't want to frame the next question, but the words came into her mind anyway, blunt and inescapable and frankly ridiculous.

 _What year is it?_

No. It wasn't possible. Part of her must have been kidding, because the question was insane. And the fact that she was even considering it … well, she chalked it up to hitting her head.

I have a concussion, Elaine reasoned. That is all this is.

Maybe she wasn't even awake yet?

She pinched herself. It hurt. And yet, she still didn't wake up. She turned slowly and only vaguely noticed when a galloping sound was growing louder. She couldn't focus on that. She was staring at a wagon being pulled by oxen and a stone hut with a billowing cloud of smoke gushing from its roof.

The trembling inside her was getting worse.

There was another sound, a rough shout. Elaine blinked and looked for the source.

-0-

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 **If anyone is reading, review:) I would love to hear your thoughts.**


	3. Chapter 3

As soon as Elaine found the party responsible for the outcry, she decided then and there that this was all some horrible nightmare.

The scene reminded her of a clip out of _Braveheart_ , with the blue renegade warrior mowing down the enemy.

A lone figure drove his steed forward like a man possessed. Long whips of brown hair danced around the stranger's head and his skin gleamed blue under the dim rays of the sun. The painted beast beneath its rider flared its nostrils, reared its head, and beat the ground with its hooves.

 _Thump. Thump. Thump._

As if the last ending _whacks_ of a war drum. A distant thunder that had become a bellowing storm.

And the storm was heading straight for Elaine.

She knew absolutely, in that instant, that she was going to die. Crushed. Trampled. She couldn't even draw in the gasping breath to scream. There was simply no chance. There was nothing to save her, no hope. No rescue. It was over.

All of this flashed through Elaine's mind in the single instant it took her to look over and see the warrior bearing down on her. The warrior's sleek black horse with blue paint was only forty feet away, and it wasn't slowing.

In a spilt second decision, either to run or, perhaps, not meet death head on, Elaine couldn't say, but she turned away. The last thing she would ever see wasn't going to be the sneering face of her killer, but the blue expanse of sky. Blue, blue, blue—

Green.

It all happened at once, filling her vision. One second she was standing there, the next her entire world was green and she was flying towards it. Dank, prickly, and unforgiving green. There was green all around her, a cocoon which enfolded and consumed her.

I'm dead, Elaine thought. This is _not_ what I expected death to feel like.

Below her forehead and under her fingers was the roughness of green grass. Then she realized that not only could she hear a faint stuttered breath, but she could feel it. The realm of remote detachment that she had been plunged into suddenly vanished, and then she _felt_ everything.

She tilted her head back, gasping.

An invisible force squeezed Elaine's chest. All she could do was choke on nothing as she tried, desperately, to breathe. A moment which seemingly dragged on for an eternity.

Sliding her eyelids shut, she sucked in a powerful breath. This one more desperate than before. And then, finally, it filled her lungs, and she expelled it back out in a rush filled with absolute relief.

Once she managed to gulp down a few more mouthfuls of air, she began to register the dull pain radiating from her left shoulder. She licked her lips and turned her head until half of her face was pressed into the grass. The sweat on her brow trickled down her forehead and mingled with the scalding tears spilling over her nose and temple.

People were yelling.

Shrieking and yowling and making all kinds of noise. The distinct sound of clashing metal made Elaine glance up, but she couldn't see anything beyond the tall grass.

She needed to move. Find help.

With clenched teeth, smothering a scream, she tried to pick herself up. Although lightheaded and faint, her body had different plans. She fell backwards. Her entire world exploded into fragmented pieces and came back together to form the most terrible agony imaginable. She couldn't move her left arm. She saw it, it was beside her, but she couldn't move it.

 _Holy shit…_

Elaine dragged in huge breaths, hyperventilating, her whole body shaking in spasms. For a few moments all she could think about was the pain.

And then, very suddenly, everything went still. Realization washed over her. This wasn't a nightmare and she wasn't dead. No, this was far worse. All of this was real.

Holy shit, this is real, Elaine thought.

She pushed herself up in stages until she stood, albeit unsteady. When she looked around, she saw a man. He was standing easily, yanking a dangerous looking axe from a prone blue body on the ground. His face was turned partially away from her.

And he was dressed like somebody at a Renaissance Fair. Elaine had been to one in Pennsylvania four years ago, where everyone wore clothes from the Middle Ages and ate without utensils and battled with fake swords.

Well, this man's axe was by no means fake. Neither was the blood splattered on his face. He was wearing a leather, fur-lined jerkin with strange metal bumps on it, tough leather trousers, and boots. His scarred face turned her way, and she felt the hair at the back of her neck stir.

-0-

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 **Review! The chapters will get longer with feedback;) Thanks, readers!**


	4. Chapter 4

This must be what shock feels like, Elaine thought absently.

She couldn't even find it in herself to care that the body lying at the strange man's feet was not moving, and, most likely, would never move on its own volition again.

As the man started moving towards her, she haplessly dropped to her knees and closed her eyes, the life effectually draining out of her. Maybe if she had been in the right frame of mind she would have begged or pleaded for him to spare her. However, since the moment she had gained consciousness in this crazy parallel world, nothing was as it should be.

All right, she thought. All I have to do is wait until he comes over. And then—

She stiffened as the sun disappeared. She could hear the stranger breathing somewhere above her.

Then a string of unexpected and bizarre sounds, a foreign language given in a deep baritone, made her open her eyes and look up.

Elaine stared at him, trying to make sense of his words.

 _What now?_

He bent down before her, and it sounded like he repeated himself, though she couldn't be sure.

Although he spoke in a gentle voice, there was a certain sense of urgency in his tone. It was almost as if he was afraid of scaring her but, at the same time, still needed an immediate answer.

"I don't understand what you're saying. I'm American," she said, shaking her head.

This time it was his turn to look confused.

He pointed down to her limp arm and tried repeating himself for a third time. Elaine followed his finger down and gasped. Dark red blood was running down her arm in veiny rivers, dripping off the tips of her fingers like ruby rain drops.

"Wait a minute—" She could hear her voice rising in panic, but it was weakened by the rushing in her ears as her head swam.

Before Elaine quite knew she was doing it, she reached out and touched her arm. The effect was swift. She bared her teeth and whimpered in anguish. She would have collapsed if not for the arms that suddenly encircled her.

She felt the back of her legs lift up. Then she simply was off the ground and in the air; she was being cradled, unable to move her useless arm.

She heard herself scream, but only faintly. A surge of pain, sharp and piercing, engulfed the left half of her body. It was all too much. Too much moving. Too much pain.

"Stop. Stop, stop," she cried, her eyes suddenly stinging. "Put me down. Stop." The constant jostling of her handler was making everything a hundred-times worse.

"Bors!" the man roared, before continuing in a thick command. At least, that's what it seemed like to Elaine.

She turned her head, finally catching a glimpse at the rest of the field. Lifeless bodies littered the ground. The stench of death was everywhere.

This is not happening.

"I don't understand…" The rest of her thoughts floated away, until her concern shifted inward.

I feel strange, Elaine thought.

Very strange. Dizzy. It seemed to come over her all at once. There was a pattern of flashing white spreading around the edges of her vision.

A husky whisper tried rousing her, but her eyelids were so heavy. How could she possibly be expected to keep them open?

Her body seemed to have gone numb.

She blinked, only barely managing to focus on the strong jawline hovering above her. A moment later, she realized that the jaw was moving.

As if someone had flipped a switch, his words became loud and clear. "You must stay awake. Don't fall asleep."

As Elaine registered his words, two things clicked simultaneously. First, she could understand him. And second, he was definitely not speaking in English.

She blinked again, astonished, and tried thinking of something to say.

"I feel cold," she finally whispered.

He looked down at her. "You've lost blood. You need to stay awake."

Elaine couldn't manage a nod anymore, or a sentence. "I'm . . . sorry."

"Woman, keep your eyes open—"

The voice stopped. She was going away. There was only a crackling noise in an endless blackness.

Then she stopped thinking at all.

-0-

Elaine woke up little by little. And it was awful.

I must be sick, she thought. That was the only explanation for the way she felt. Her body was heavy and achy. It felt like she was burning alive. While her neck was stiff and her head throbbing, her sinuses were almost completely stuffed up. She was breathing through her mouth, which was so rough and dry that her tongue stuck to the roof of it.

Thirsty. I need water…

It took every ounce of concentration to try and lift her head and open her eyes. However, her head merely flopped to the side. And her vision was blurring and indistinct.

Her brain tried to piece together her surroundings. Gradually she realized she was bouncing up and down and from side to side. There was a rhythmic noise coming from all around her that she felt she be able to recognize.

Pressed up against her check and the side of her temple was the roughness of something prickly…

A beard, she thought suddenly. Somebody's beard is against my face.

As soon as she put that much together, she realized what the rhythmic sound was.

Horses' hoofs.

Then, without warning, arms squeezed her on either side and that was it. Her stomach heaved and she felt a wave of queasiness, which continued up her throat and out her mouth.

-0-

Aside from the thunder storm raging outside its walls, the large healing hall was quiet and still. Sheets of rain rushed down the windows like living curtains, the oil lamps flickered with the wind that managed to slither through cracks and seep beneath the doors, and a great fire burning in the hearth crackled and popped.

It gave the hall an almost eerie atmosphere.

Ailidh, however, paid it no mind. She busied herself with collecting the clean wash from the basket at her feet, wondering to all the Gods where Three had gone off and disappeared to.

That girl isn't going to get her pay if she keeps running off, she thought, sighing. I can't believe she left all of this laundry just _lying_ here!

Outside, there was a loud commotion. People were yelling. It seemed to come from behind the door that led out into the courtyard.

Dropping the linens back into the basket, Ailidh moved to investigate. The light from the entrance crack cut off briefly. But then the door flew open with a slam.

She felt a rush of air as Dagonet, covered in mud, passed in front of her. And in his embrace was a limp body tightly wrapped in a cloak.

Galen, the fort's physician, was hot on his heels. The older man practically had to run in order to keep up with the giant knight's larger strides.

"She is beyond my aide," Dagonet said in his quiet, heated way.

Galen pointed to the cot closest to the hearth. "Put her there. How long ago did this happen? Has she been lucid?"

"Two days. And no." Dagonet eased the figure onto the cot, and Ailidh started taking off the cloak to reveal a bruised and battered girl.

"A woad attack, you say?" Galen stepped around the knight and peeled the bandages off the girl's back. "Mace?"

Dagonet nodded. "It dislocated her shoulder. I had to push it back."

"You were right to have cauterized the wounds."

Ailidh remained silent throughout the exchange.

"She burns," Dagonet murmured.

Galen shared a pointed look with Ailidh, and she jerked her head in agreement.

Dagonet was still standing there, waiting and watching.

While Galen tore the girl's smock in half to further assess the damage, Ailidh patted Dagonet's arm. "You go now, lad. There's nothing more you can do here—"

Just then a young Roman soldier, holding his arm, limped into the triage. Right behind him was Arthur and Bors.

"What is this now?" Ailidh demanded.

Bors tutted and wiped his forehead with the back of his hand. "Got in Dag's way," he informed her eventually.

Dagonet didn't look very remorseful. In fact, he stood a little taller.

She shook her head minutely, her expression reproachful. Then, when no one moved, she breathed. "Dagonet, clean up your mess." She gestured to the injured soldier, then turned to Bors. "Get the partition from the back. Move!"

As her years as a healer superseded everything else, she mulled over the most pressing aliment. She disappeared into the storeroom. Her old fingers easily gathering up strips of cloth and pots of salve.

I need to break the girl's fever, she thought. The fever will burn her out before the infection can even begin to spread.

When Ailidh got back to the cot, the girl was on her stomach. The light from the fire danced across her bare backside.

Her back was a mess.

"Will she live?" Arthur asked slowly, his face sullen.

Galen grumbled under his breath. Then, after a pause, shook his head. "I don't know. It depends." He prodded at a certainly worrying laceration. "But I have seen the damage such a prolonged fever can do to the body. Hard to say, really. Only time will tell."

-0-

* * *

 **Mace as in the weapon, not the spray. Share your thoughts!**


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